


The Kids From Yesterday

by AcuteAngleOfTheLord



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Chef Diego, Diego is a soft stabby boi, M/M, Rating May Change, Season 3 divergent, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26521717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcuteAngleOfTheLord/pseuds/AcuteAngleOfTheLord
Summary: Season 3 alternate. Formerly titled 'Gotta Get Right Back (To Where we Started From)'Klaus, a con artist who sees ghosts, is visited by the temporal ghost of Five, a boy who claims to be from an alternate timeline where they were superheroes known as the Umbrella Academy. He needs the help of Klaus to help him stop an oncoming Cataclysm, along with their long-lost siblings.Turns out one of them--Diego, also happens to also be Klaus' ex.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves/Luther Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Diego Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves, The Hargreeves Family
Comments: 35
Kudos: 146





	1. Number Four | The Seance

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This is my first fic in the UA fandom. I'm not sure how well I like how this chapter turned out, but I have some great ideas for the upcoming chapters! Let me know what you think!
> 
> I might up the rating later if I'm not a coward.

On the twelfth hour of the first day of October 1989, forty-three women around the world gave birth. This was unusual, only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began.

Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible.

Klaus was not one of them.

\---

The melody of the violin played in the background, a beautiful mash up of Phantom of the Opera. It was a soothing sound that Klaus felt was grounding, a feeling of comfort.

His eyes were glazed over as he stared up at the ceiling. He was silent for a moment, until his body began to convulse. He let out a deep gasp as his eyes opened, as if coming to life. He looked across the table where a middle-aged woman sat, giving her a kind and happy smile.

“Delilah,” he whispered with fondness, taking the woman's hand. His voice was lilted with traces of a German accent. “Your husband’s here with us.”

“Joe?” the woman asked, looking to the empty chair between her and Klaus. “Baby, I’ve missed you.”

Klaus looked the perfect picture of calm and peaceful, happiness and kindness radiating from his voice. “Joe says he misses you too, Delilah.”

“Tell that bitch I miss her so much I hope she drops dead.” The voice came from the ghost of a plump middle aged, bald man who was leaning on the wall across the room, watching the scene. Joseph Woodward, 45, deceased. “Least I can watch Jeopardy in peace without hearing you screaming wrong answers in my ear.”

Klaus didn’t bother to even glance at the spirit, instead keeping his eyes trained on the empty chair, and that smile never wavered. “He misses you so much. Every day.”

It went on like that for awhile. This woman wasn’t needing all that convincing, clearly something on her mind with guilt. Klaus was good at translating, telling her what she wanted to hear while also weaving in whatever details the spirit would give her to prove he was really there.

“—and he misses watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune with you,” Klaus said. “No matter if you got the answers right or not. You were always—so creative.”

And here it was, the real reason why she had come here. Klaus had seen it on the faces of most of his…clients, the people looking for specific answers from the dead to make them feel less guilty about still living.

“Joey, honey. Listen…I wanted to let you know, well…it’s Jim. He’s asked me out on a date, and I…I know you’ve only been dead a year but I guess I just wanted to know…what should I do?”

“Oh, please. You been screwing Jim for months now, Delilah. Month after my heart attack. Probably before too. But I don’t give a shit. I’ve been screwing your sister the past three years before I kicked the bucket. Congrats on her baby, by the way.”

“What’s he saying?” Delilah cocked her head.

Klaus gave her that small and kind smile he knew put people at ease, ignoring that bit of gossip. “Your husband says he will always love you, but he wants you to be happy. If this Jim guy makes you happy, then you should go for it. And he said to tell your sister congratulations on the adorable niece.”

“Oh, you are truly a miracleworker,” Delilah said, sniffling just a little. She immediately stood up, taking her wallet out of her purse. She began counting twenties, until she just handed him a wad of cash. “Take it. Keep the change. I had heard the stories, but—you truly are the real deal.”

“ _Danke._ It’s a gift, really, to help people like you find peace.” Klaus said with all the humility he could muster up. Years of practice and patience prevented him from dropping the act and greedily grabbing the money. He put a hand on her shoulder, warm and reassuring. “If you ever need to speak to your husband again, he’s just a call away.”

The woman left, and Klaus let out a sigh. He grabbed the pile of cash, grinning in glee that he made an extra forty.

“Alright, Joey. Your turn. You get one minute on the merry-go-round.” Klaus said with a sigh, dropping the accent.

“One minute? We had a deal, asshole.” The spirit of Joseph Woodward, average and cranky middle-aged history teacher, glared at Klaus.

“And you were supposed to behave,” Klaus said back to him with a scowl. “So I’m only letting you have one minute. You answer questions she wants to hear, I get more money, you get more time. And forty dollars? Won’t pay rent.”

Klaus took out a pack of cigarettes, putting it on the table with a lighter. “Better hurry up, _Josef_ , clock’s ticking. Or no deal at all.”

The spirit looked over at Klaus and sighed, clearly not used to not having the final say. “Fine.”

Klaus’ hands lit up pale blue, and Joseph became corporeal. He walked over to the table, lighting up a cigarette and inhaled slowly before blowing out a puff of smoke. The ghost closed his eyes, humming contently. After a minute had passed, Klaus’ hands were back to normal and the spirit was gone.

Klaus picked up the still-lit cigarette and took a drag.

“Pleasure doing business, Joey-boy.”

\---

Conjuring spirits and… _acting_ for a living was exhausting.

Klaus went to the front of the shop, flipping the sign to GOODBYE, turning off the neon light that read _The Séance_ and locked it _._

Ever since Klaus was five, he knew he could speak to the dead.

His parents were devastated to learn their little boy was hearing voices, and so they sent him to every shrink they could find, and eventually to psychiatric wards when that didn’t work. But the drugs the hospitals gave him never quelled the spirits. He wanted to scream, wanted to throw himself into anything he could to get away…

And then he learned he could profit, and everything changed.

The living started flocking to Klaus for some kind of closure in their lives, while the dead were attracted to the fact that Klaus could make them corporeal for a short time to enjoy things like smoking, eating, or just feel the sunshine on their face again.

And relationships, well…he couldn’t fix his own, not when he was still shooting up and getting high every week. It took for his last partner to up and leave him for Klaus to even consider getting clean.

His last partner who, so far, no one else could hold a candle to.

_Klaus…_

It wasn’t that Klaus was scamming or conning anyone. He really could speak to the dead and conjure up specific ones. It was more that he sort of…translated what the dead were saying into something the living could handle to move on. And, if their closure came with a bigger dollar sign, well. That was just a bonus for Klaus.

_Klaus…_

Klaus ignored the whisper, flipping the lights in the shop off to head toward his studio upstairs. He could feel a familiar headache settling in behind his eyes, and he felt the alluring call of his most prized possession—a king sized mattress with silk sheets.

Klaus removed the long flowing wig he had, placing it on a mannequin head gently, then removed the fake beard and glasses. It seemed that people always tipped more when he was posing as a German hippie who could see ghosts, rather than a young man with a buzzcut and short goatee who looked like a soldier. A pretty soldier at that.

_“Klaus, dammit, come on!”_

“I’m off the clock, man, check back in seven to ten business hours,” Klaus mumbled, face smashed into a pillow, eyes closed.

He was used to background noise coming from his mind. The dead screaming at him, either wanting justice for their deaths or to ask Klaus to make them corporeal even just for a few minutes. He’d gotten better over the years at blocking them out, but sometimes they could be a little persistent.

_“Klaus, I don’t have time for your bullshit, the world’s in danger!”_

And this one was definitely persistent.

“Dude, I don’t care!” Klaus groaned, still pointedly not looking at the spectre. Behind closed eyes, he could see a bright light. Weird. Not caring. Deal with in morning. “I don’t work with cops anymore, not for years, so whatever Scooby Doo shit you wanna solve can either wait till the morning or--”

A sharp and hard object hit him square in the shoulder. That was even weirder, because he didn’t actively try to make this little shit corporeal.

He opened his eyes, sitting up. “How the hell--”

The ghost was of a young teenager. He was dressed in what looked like one of those rich-kid private school uniforms, and his eyes were full of murder and a lack of patience. Though spirits conjured by Klaus were usually manifested either in a pale white-blue light or looking like a regular person, this kid was in neither. He looked like he was surrounded by what looked like the space around them bending, rippling.

Klaus felt an odd feeling of déjà vu, like it was something he’d seen before though he knew he hadn’t.

 _“I don’t have much time before I get deleted by the timeline,_ ” the boy was saying, his voice sounding like he was underwater. _“You have to come find me, Klaus. I’m the only one that can stop it from happening. We have to go back and undo what we’ve done.”_

“What?” Klaus was thoroughly not expecting any of this. “What the hell are you talking about? Look, kid, I hate to break it to you, but you’re dead. Dead, dead--”

 _“I’m not dead, you idiot!”_ the boy hissed at him. That familiar feeling was back again. _“Listen! I’m a time traveller. I have powers, just like you. You, me, Diego, Vanya, the others--We all went back in the past to try to stop the Apocalypse, and we did_ something _to screw up the future. When we came back, our original selves got erased to prevent a time paradox. But I haven’t been erased yet because of my powers. I don’t have much time before the timeline deletes me, so you’re going to have to find the me of this timeline and explain it so we can stop this new Cataclysm.”_

A very, very long pause. Klaus processed every three words of that. Maybe. “...you’re...not dead?”

There was a frustrated growl before the boy rolled his eyes, and before Klaus knew what was happening, the boy warped into Klaus’ body and took over _._

“What the—dude--!”

The boy didn’t possess just Klaus’ body though. He possessed Klaus’ mind. Klaus could feel images rushing to him, playing out like he was experiencing them himself.

_Nothing but rubble, fire, everywhere. The smell of burning—burning buildings, burning flesh, nothing around him…_

_“Vanya! Ben! Dad!”_

_Running through the rubble, unable to jump back, seeing the bodies. The bodies that looked too familiar, a sinking feeling in his belly...until he recognized the tattoo on the curly haired man. The same tattoo they’d gotten as kids. Luther, Allison...Klaus. Klaus’ eyes dead and glazed over…_

_A shoot out, this time on the streets in the 60s. He recognized the people there. Luther, Diego, Allison...the ghost of Ben on the rooftop with tentacles coming from his body, throwing around the soldiers like nothing…_

_Smoking pot, the three of them always so close. Back before Ben died, and they’d sneak into a room in the attic where the stash was, just him, Diego and Ben. Then Ben was gone and it was just him and Diego..._ “ _The even numbers...”_

_As kids, sitting at the dinner table quietly. Sometimes Klaus would sneak Five something interesting, like a dessert pilfered from the kitchen, one time a joint…_

_A sarcastic voice that was almost always around, no matter how out of his mind he was, telling him that he needed to take better care of himself, whispering words of encouragement. Klaus making broken promises to himself and the other that he’d get better next time, that he’d do better…_

_The Commission recruiting him, knowing what he was capable of. Being able to time travel by his own power without the help of a briefcase, in theory anyway. Knowing that he could use it for his own gain to get back to his family…_

_The mausoleum, the screaming. The ghosts screaming for him, his own screams blending in with it as he begged his father to let him out. Please, please…_

_Watching his brother dying, the light fading out from his eyes as they were all too late to stop it, too late to stop him from doing what he had to, to prevent the monsters from being unleashed…_

_Dave. Dave. Dave. Dave--I need a medic! A medic! Please! So much blood, so much blood on him as he killed, as he killed the whole board with nothing but an axe and it felt so_ good _but he was a pacifist wasn’t he? But he’d fight in the war for him--_

The boy finally was ripped free from Klaus’ mind and body, and Klaus was left shell shocked, shaking with empty eyes as those images— _memories_ —rushed to him like a dream.

The way that he’d been the day he came back from Vietnam.

“Well that was...unexpected,” Five said, full of clinical curiosity. Klaus noted the portal behind him was gone, and he looked more stable, like a normal spirit. “I wasn’t sure how possession fully worked with your powers, especially since they seem less developed in this timeline. It seems that our powers must have somehow merged, since those weren’t entirely all of my memories. I know you have questions, but there’s no time to--”

“What. The. _FUCK_ , Five?!” Klaus finally spit out, still visibly shaken.

His mind was swimming with images and memories that he never lived, though he couldn’t identify most of them. It was like a vivid dream fading away. The people in the visions...Klaus tried to cling on to them, feeling this overwhelming attachment and longing.

He’d never known love like that. Never knew heartbreak like that. He felt tears running down his eyes that he couldn’t stop as all the emotions came to him at once before his brain could truly process.

And there was something there…something important. Something he recognized and knew in those dreams and visions. Something helpful…and it was gone.

“Ah good, so you know who I am. That makes things easier,” Five said it so coolly, not even caring how Klaus’ head was spinning.

“Why did you--just-- _why?!_ ”

“As I _told_ you, I need you on board to help stop the oncoming Cataclysm. You need to find whatever version of me is out there, and all of our siblings, so we can stop it.”

“You never write, you never call, it’s always ‘Klaus here’s some fucked up memories of a life you never lived, go stop this Apocalypse’ or ‘Klaus stop licking that questionable substance, it’s probably poison’—which it _wasn’t_ ,’” he waved him away. He scrubbed a hand over his face.

“We need to make things right again,” Five insisted. “Set the timeline back to how it’s supposed to be.”

“I’m--perfectly happy in this lifetime. Been sober ten years, got a—place with bills and shit...oh! I have a _Netflix_ account. What I saw from your—Patrick Swayze routine? I was a shit hero. Maybe go find our long-lost siblings, or I know—the Sparrow Academy. I hear they’re superheroes or something this time around. They could help you solve your pesky little Apocalypse problem. There’s comics of them and shit. Even made a Netflix show.”

“I didn’t say Apocalypse this time,” Five’s arms were crossed over. Klaus could vaguely remember watching Five murder people in front of him. “And even if I could talk to them, I wouldn’t ask the Sparrow Academy. I need your help. You, and the others.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Five said. “The Sparrow Academy are the ones who cause the Cataclysm.”

Klaus swore under his breath, knowing he wasn’t going to sleep tonight. “I’ll make coffee.”

\---

A half hour later, Klaus was downstairs in the shop in nothing but his underwear and a sheer sparkling robe. The pot of coffee sat between them, and Five looked like he was ready to pounce.

Klaus got a cup for himself, sipping it. And coffee was the only type of drug he’d had in years. Ten for him, and three or four in the timeline that was bouncing around the edges of his mind.

Five still looked antsy, though interestingly enough seemed to look more grounded and less…shimmery. Instead of looking like he had one foot in some sort of abyss of nothing, it looked more like he was a real spirit that Klaus was used to seeing.

“So…time travel…” Klaus started, his mind at war with trying to grasp the reality of his timeline and now the new memories, faint and distorted. An alleyway, a group of people worshipping him? The sounds of gunfire, of explosions all around him. He looked at his palms which were bare, and for the first time in his life they looked naked. And who was it that he kept thinking about? “We fucked it up.”

“So it would appear,” Five said. “Our sister, Vanya, was lied to by our father and manipulated to believe that she had no powers. And when she found out, she rightfully got angry and destroyed the world. The only way to prevent that from happening was that you, me, and the rest of us went back in time. We all ended up in 1963. When we tried to go back home, we tried to enlist the help of our father—”

“Reginald Hargreeves. The dude who created the Sparrow Academy.”

“In our timeline, it was the Umbrella Academy,” Five scowled, looking to the coffee wistfully again. “And I think that, in him meeting the so-called ‘grown-up’ versions of ourselves, he adopted other children in our place to create the Sparrow Academy. It’s always been a theory that there were other children like us. All born on the same day, the same time at various parts of the world. All of us special. Like you talking to the dead.”

“My head hurts,” Klaus said, for once in a few months craving a stiff drink. He settled for more coffee. “Look, little Five. I’m not a superhero or whatever in this lifetime. So I’ll make you a deal. I’ll make you corporeal for like, a few hours. You do whatever you gotta do, gather the troops and have your happy little adventure without me. I’m happy here.”

“Really?” Five snorted. “Boring job, go to work, go to sleep. No family, no friends. I mean, you’ve never had much sense of direction, you were a junkie in the original timeline, but this? This is pretty pathetic, even for you, if this is all you want out of life.”

“Hey!” Klaus seemed at least a little indignant, even if it were true. “Respect your elders, young man.”

“I’m twenty-five years and two months older than you,” Five said levelly. It was ridiculous, but somewhere Klaus knew it was true. “I need you and the others, not just the new version of myself. Your powers stabilize me, I think. I haven’t been deleted by the timeline, and I think you’ve tethered me here. So, you’re coming with me, or I’ll keep possessing you until you have enough of your memory back to _want_ to go back, and I can’t guarantee it won’t make your brain explode.”

“Fine,” Klaus said, the caffeine only doing so much to relieve his migraine. “Sure, I guess. Like my—ghost of traumas past.”

He could feel the memories of the other life wanting to creep into his mind, images of a childhood he didn’t live, of people he didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know any of it. Too much loss, too much grief and torture.

Something in particular kept coming up in Klaus’ mind, like a word on the tip of his tongue, a memory from too long ago that he couldn’t grasp. Klaus couldn’t deny that longing feeling of missing someone he didn’t even remember was getting worse.

\---

Tracking down their long-lost siblings turned out to be harder than expected, considering the average number of births on the same day was nearly 400,000.

Five was currently taking lead on the search. As soon as Klaus was able to make him corporeal, Five took a glass of the coffee and sat down at the computer. Klaus never liked to let the spirits be corporeal for more than a few minutes at this level, and this level of concentration was only making his headache worse.

But Five had found a way to connect to the deep dark web or something, already hacking his way into medical files with ease. Klaus had no objections, but he was finding sleep was gaining on him.

“Hey, do you think we all kept the same names? I mean, our robot mom named me when I was like ten, so kinda weird I’m still Klaus, right? I mean what would you have named yourself in this timeline? Kevin? You look like a Kevin. Or maybe a Nick or—”

“I don’t _know_ , Klaus. We’ll see, won’t we? I’m not looking by name, I’m tracking down the moment they were born.”

Another long pause, just the sound of Five’s fingers flying over the keyboard.

“When you say we were all born on the same day and same time, does that mean like…the same time in each time zone? So if I was born at noon in Munich, would that mean that someone born in New York was born at 6am? Or were they born at noon in _their_ time zone and we’re all just—hours apart—”

The coffee cup smacked him in the head.

(Despite the fact that, when searching for babies that were born at the same time, Klaus did really have a point. Five would never admit such a thing.)

Silence was not something Klaus was used to. Not pure silence. He had gotten better at chasing away the ghost voices, better at creating a barrier around himself. But with Five around, it was like the ghosts were too afraid to come near them. Klaus could feel them nearby, but for the first time in ages he felt pure silence.

He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing though. He could hear his thoughts better, and the more he was able to think, the images from that other lifetime filtered through. Images, feelings…

There were a lot of cute boys in the vague memories. Ones who were with him in the war, ones who had died. And ones who fought right alongside him till the end…

One boy in particular, who Klaus knew. Knew but couldn’t place…

“There!” Five said, startling Klaus out of his near nap. “Klaus, I found one!”

Klaus sighed, bored and tired. “Yay. Off you go then, goodbye forever little Five—”

He looked at the screen and stopped. There was a photo of a birth certificate in the background, followed by different windows with articles, documents. But what made Klaus’ heart nearly jump to his throat was a photo of a familiar face.

The web page was of a restaurant where all the staff had their headshots and a brief bio. The chef at the top of the screen was so familiar that it made Klaus’ heart ache with relief, joy, and excitement.

He took a step forward, gently touching the computer with his hand, tips of his finger on the photo, memories rushing back to him.

Sharing a joint at the Academy in the attic, hiding from their Dad’s cameras. Klaus waking up from an OD to find _him_ there, camped out next to the hospital bed, watching over him.

Meeting _him_ at twenty-one in this lifetime. Their first date. Their first kiss. A year of bliss together until he left Klaus a broken mess, and Klaus swore he’d never touch drugs again, but it was too late.

 _The_ familiar face haunting Klaus’ memories in the past life, and his present.

“Diego.”

His brother, in the other life.

His ex, in this one.

His concentration on Five stopped, and no longer corporeal, Five dropped the coffee mug with a crash, shattering on the floor.

“Shit.”


	2. 2010 - Ten Years Ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Klaus and Diego met and got together.
> 
> Sorry for the repost! I didn't realize but I had posted an older draft. This is the updated one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the repost! I didn't realize but I had posted an old draft. This is the updated one. I honestly was not expecting this to turn into an entire chapter (or more) but I really fell in love with their story and past relationship. It will probably alternate between the present and past.

**_2010 - Ten Years Ago_ **

”Peace on earth, that’s so sweet.”

Klaus looked over the proposal they had given him, sketchbook already in his lap. He had his cigarette tucked behind his ear as he drew. 

“So I’ve got a couple ideas based on what you gave me, Martha,” he said, holding up his sketchbook to the older woman. There were a few haphazard sketches, cartoonish and some real. “But gotta tell, it feels a little—Precious Moments, rot your teeth.”

The woman looked over the sketches, frowning. She was in her late forties, a hint of a German accent in her voice and an attitude that screamed that she took no shit. “Just a few ideas, Klaus. If you don’t like them, come up with something of your own then. Just nothing too... outlandish.”

“Me, outlandish? Why, I wouldn’t dream of it, Auntie Em,” he said. He took the cigarette out from behind his ear and got out his lighter, and the woman smacked his leg. 

“Not in my restaurant,” she said. “Smoke outside.”

“Fine, fine,” Klaus sighed. He got up to stretch, loving the new knee high velvet boots he just got. “Give me a chance to get some...artistic inspiration.”

“That cigarette better be the only kind of artistic inspiration you get,” Martha said sharply.

“Yeah, yeah, or you and Mom send me off to another—lovely vacation full of shrinks and good clean fun,” Klaus sighed. He made his way over to the door. “Don’t worry, Aunt Em. My body’s a temple and all that jazz.”

He headed out the back door, heels of his boots uneven on the gravel in the parking lot. He made his way to the side of the building, an expanse of bare brick.

Despite being twenty, Klaus felt that he was always either treated like a little kid, or that too much was expected of him for the age he was. He was stuck in this middle of being babied by his family, while also not being looked after enough.

Klaus lit his cigarette, taking a drag as he stared hard at the wall. Trying to picture a good theme, a design that would speak his mind to the world and also be attractive enough to bring business.

He reached into the pocket of the floral dress he was wearing, fingers curling around a small little plastic packet— 

“Mind if I join you?” A man’s voice startled Klaus from his search, dropping the packet back into the pocket.

Klaus barely looked at the man, sending a friendly wave. “Yeah, dude. Free country or whatever.”

There was a silence again. Klaus was staring at the wall, trying to come up with ideas for the mural. The ghosts of the restaurant that roamed the floors that he could see in the shadows? Too creepy. The short list of ideas that his aunt gave him were a little too...sugary.

“Mind if I bum a square?” The man asked, startling Klaus out of his thoughts. Not a ghost then.

“Yeah, sure.” Klaus reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack, along with his lighter. He finally turned to get a look at the man, nearly dropping what was in his hand.

A man who looked around the same as Klaus, Latino and just the right amount of stubble and his black t-shirt showing enough biceps that gave Klaus some really deliciously wicked thoughts. But his eyes were a warm brown, soft and kind.

He was gorgeous.

Klaus recovered quickly, the other man not seeming to notice. He tried not to stare as perfect lips wrapped around the cigarette.

“Haven’t seen you around,” the man said, handing the lighter back to Klaus after he used it. “You new?”

“Kinda,” Klaus said. “I’m going to be painting the mural on the wall.”

“Ah, you’re Martha’s—nephew right?” He asked. “Kris?”

“Klaus,” he corrected. 

“Klaus,” the man repeated. “I’m Diego. I’m the—well. I work in the kitchen.”

”Ah, a talented rising chef,” Klaus said, giving a small curtesy with his dress.

“Actually I’m the porter,” Diego said, eyeing him. “I clean up all the shit left behind by all the talented rising chefs.”

“Those messy talentless bastards.”

Diego gave a bright chuckle, and Klaus felt his stomach doing an odd flip at the noise. He wanted to hear that sound again.

“So any ideas for what you’re gonna paint the mural?” Diego asked, looking at him.

Klaus looked over at the canvas, a worn brick wall that overlooked the corner to the alleyway. “Auntie Em wants it to bring in customers. Look friendly. Like peace on earth or some shit.”

“Sounds absolutely boring,” Diego said, causing Klaus to grin. “Unless you throw some aliens in there.”

“That it does,” Klaus said. He finished his cigarette and crushed it under his heel. “I got a few ideas. Gonna do a few rough sketches, see what pops. Though, aliens--you might be onto something there.”

“Good luck,” Diego said. He threw his cigarette on the ground. “My shift’s starting in a couple. Nice meeting you, Klaus. I’ll see you around.”

Klaus nodded, watching as Diego started heading towards the back entrance of the restaurant. Diego opened the door, then stopped and turned back to him.

“K-Klaus? I owe you one. For—for the square.” Diego sounded so confident, Klaus didn’t think anything of the slight stutter. 

Still, Klaus felt something warm in his chest and couldn’t help the smile.

\--

The antipsychotic meds didn’t help (and Klaus usually didn’t take them), but the benzos did.

Klaus found that they dulled him, made him more grounded. The ghosts were shadows in his peripheral, and his nightmares were becoming less frequent.

Klaus’ mother was insistent he help out at the restaurant, and (un)fortunately for him, the hostess got into an accident and was in the hospital indefinitely. Klaus was still stuck on inspiration for the mural, but much to everyone’s surprise—including his own—he had a charming way with customers. Not long after, Klaus found he had a part time job working the front of the house.

It was okay though, because there weren’t many ghosts that haunted the diner, and it was becoming a bit of a refuge from the swarming army that usually awaited him at his parents’ ancient apartment complex.

And well, if he got to have more cigarette breaks with the cute porter, that was just a plus.

Diego was a breath of sunshine in his otherwise grayscale world.

“What do you wanna do with yourself, Klaus?” Diego asked one day as they sat up against the wall where the mural would one day go. They sat next to each other, sharing Diego’s last cigarette.

He paused, thinking, before tuning to face the wall. “I mean, I’m always down to try new things. I still haven’t gotten to quite flexible enough to suck myself off but I’ve gotten really close—“

“No, you pineapple,” Diego said with a breathless chuckle as he blew out smoke, and Klaus turned back around to sit next to Diego again. “I’m talking about...what do you wanna do with your life? Where do you see yourself in five years or whatever.”

“Oh, that,” Klaus sighed. He took the cigarette from Diego, taking a slow drag, adjusting his gray leggings with spiderwebs on them. “Don’t know. Haven’t really thought of it much. Not really much of a planner. I’m surprised I’ve lived this long.”

“Well you have,” Diego said, frowning. He turned to him. “You go through life like that, you’re gonna just...wander aimlessly until you die. And that sounds like a shitty life.”

“And then I get to wander aimlessly in the afterlife,” Klaus said darkly.

Diego rolled his eyes, taking the cigarette back. “You’re a good artist. I’ve seen your shit. It’s dark, and kinda creepy, but—its good.”

“I think there’s a compliment in there somewhere,” Klaus snorted. “And flattery gets you everywhere, Di.”

The cigarette didn’t last long, and Diego offered Klaus the last drag before tossing it onto the asphalt.

“My perfect saint of a mother wants me to take over the family business when Auntie Em retires,” Klaus said. “To keep out of trouble. AKA, rehab.”

The last part was said so quietly, almost uncertain. Diego swallowed, wishing he had the cigarette in his hands.

“We all make shitty decisions,” Diego said carefully. Slowly. Trying not to bounce off any word. “Our past...doesn’t define who we are. Only we do. I was a little shit growing up, you know. Bad temper, always getting into fights. But now I got direction, a dream. Be your own man—or, you know, whatever gender—“ He stumbled a little, but Klaus gave a grateful bow of his head. “Humans are always growing, changing. Find your power from within.”

“Wow, Diego, thats—“ he coughed a little. “You sound like one of those...cheesy self-help books.”

“Fuck off,” Diego chuckled, shoving his shoulder a little. “Seriously though. You really wanna keep out of rehab, or whatever. Stick with me, baby. No poison gets put in this body.”

“Just cigarettes,” Klaus said, but it was all playful.

“Well,” Diego turned to look at Klaus, eyes a little bold, and something in his eyes made Klaus’ heart start to race a little faster. “We all have our guilty pleasures.” 

\--

“Hey, try this.”

A finger shoved into Klaus’ face with a mysterious light brown goo. Klaus didn’t even ask questions before he wrapped his lips around it, tasting it.

“The glaze needs to be perfect,” Diego said, lost in focus and determination. “What do you think? Too sweet? Needs more sugar? Too thin?”

Klaus knew Diego wouldn’t accept anything but perfection. “Maybe...a touch more sugar?”

“Alright. Yeah.” There was another long pause as Diego went back into the kitchen, and Klaus watched out of his peripheral as Diego was stirring in more sugar into the bowl.

Klaus was in the midst of a sketch, an almost caricature-like version of Diego with a determined frown as he worked over the stainless-steel countertop. There was a vein that was popping out of the cartoon version of Diego under the fluffy tall hat that the real-life version was not wearing.

It was both amusing and endearing how Diego was freaking out. One of the chefs got sick, and they needed someone to help make the glazes and sauces. Diego felt it was his time to shine, to prove his worth to the other cooks and management and took it upon himself to only give a perfect product.

Klaus went back into his sketchbook, a lull in customer traffic. He could hear Diego pacing back and forth, and the sound of the table shaking from his whisking. Before long, the finger was back and Klaus took it into his mouth again, tongue lapping at the glaze.

“Better? Worse?” Diego sounded so hopeful.

That’s when Klaus realized he was a little in love with his best friend.

“Maybe a _tad_ more sugar. And maybe a little thicker.” Klaus said. He watched Diego hurry back to the kitchen for the now fourth time.

Klaus personally thought it had tasted perfect after the second time. He just liked sucking sweet sticky heaven off Diego’s finger.

He wondered how many times Diego would go back and forth before he realized Klaus was messing with him.

Turned out, the magic number was seven.

——

It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t.

Klaus had to keep reminding himself of that.

He and Diego had become inseparable, best friends, over the last few months. But they never really hung out outside of that.

Klaus still lived with his mom, who always wanted to stick her nose in his business. Diego, up until last week, was living with his family and had invited Klaus over for a little housewarming event.

Klaus didn’t know what to bring, so he had quite a few different bags in his hands.

It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t.

Diego opened the door when Klaus arrived, and his senses were filled with the scent of—pure Heaven.

And the sight wasn’t so bad either.

Diego wasn’t dressed in his usual uniform, instead wearing a light gray sweater that just made him look so...cozy and soft.

Maybe Klaus was a little in love with him. Maybe he wanted it to be a date.

“I got you—things—“ Klaus held up the four or five bags he was carrying. “What are you making?”

“That’s the ham,” Diego said warmly, taking the bags from Klaus. “What the hell did you do, rob a store?”

“There’s wine, uh...a plant in there somewhere,” Klaus removed his overcoat. “I wasn’t sure what to get you for a housewarming gift so I kinda got everything.”

Diego snorted, shaking his head fondly. “You didn’t have to do that, Klaus.”

“Oh. No take backsies,” Klaus said with a grin. He looked around. “Where’s the rest of the party?”

Diego gave him a strange look, before the oven timer went off and he took the most perfect looking ham out. “Party? Just us.”

This was not a date.

They cracked open the bottle of wine, and the food was amazing. Diego’s face had a pretty undertone when he was blushing at Klaus’ compliments and noises of approval.

“You’re such an amazing chef,” Klaus was saying. “I don’t know why you’re still cleaning pots and pans.”

“Still honing my skills,” Diego said, trying not to preen at the praise. “The world’s not ready for me yet.”

“You’re too—down on yourself, Di,” Klaus said and gently kicked him under the table.

“That’s because you’ll eat anything,” Diego countered, but he grinned. He gestured to their empty plates. “I’ll get those later. I got a movie picked out to watch on my new TV.”

“Anything but Sixth Sense,” Klaus stretched.

They took the bottle with them and got the movie set up.

It was Alice in Wonderland, a movie that Klaus had been dying to see all year.

Over the course of the movie, the wine was making them both a little sleepy, and a little bold. Soon Klaus was leaning up against Diego’s side, Diego’s arm around him. Diego’s fingers were drawing little patterns into Klaus’ arm that were causing little waves of electricity to spark through him.

This was not a date.

Klaus never dared to hope that Diego might return his feelings. But here in the dimly lit room where there was nothing to concentrate on but his touch, Klaus wondered...

Fingers were trailing up to Klaus’ throat, to his jaw. To his lips.

Klaus opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around them, hearing Diego make a punched out noise beneath him.

“K-Klaus—“

Klaus turned at the word, at the plea, and Diego’s lips were on his immediately.

For the first time in Klaus’ life, the whole world around them fell quiet.

Maybe it was a date.


	3. Number Two | The Chef

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego gets a visit from Klaus and his whole world is turned upside down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the wonderful encouragement!! I'm not sure I really vibe with this chapter. It's supposed to seem a little hectic and rushed because it's from Diego's POV so to try to capture the feelings of being confused and thrown into chaos.

“Knives are like people. They either create amazing things, or they stab you to death.”

Diego’s voice commanded the attention of everyone in the kitchen. He was holding a large knife in his hands, the very tip resting against his index finger.

“No one gives a shit about how it’s made, or where it comes from. What matters is what we do with it. You can use it to create or destroy. To extend a life by feeding someone, or to take a life by hurting someone.”

He pointed the knife at the handful of teenagers and young adults who were watching him, all wearing kitchen aprons over street clothes. “I don’t give a shit if you’ve used one of these before for either of those things. You might think you already know how to use this. But you’re here, under my roof in my kitchen, with my rules. You listen, you learn. And eventually—“

His favorite part of his speech. He threw the knife up in the air, eyes still on the students. The knife hovered a bit, but just like every single time, Diego caught the knife by the handle without even looking. The students were enraptured, gasps of wonder and amazement filling the room.

“—these knives will become your best friend.”

He grinned, eyeing the manager who just chuckled as she watched the show, though Diego could still see her impressed look.

“So you’ve mastered dishwashing and bussing,” Diego said proudly to the kids. “You think you guys are ready to make the best damn soup our customers out there have ever tasted?”

“Yes, Mr. D!”

“Then let’s get chopping.”

Diego loved his job. It was the best feeling in the world to be able to help kids who were in rough situations in life and turn them into proud, confident people. To take a kid who was struggling with direction and give them the skills to provide for themselves and their family.

To help kids who grew up the way he did.

After a good day of teaching the kids the proper way to chop vegetables, the students made enough soup for customers to try, and for them to take home themselves. The kids were proud of their creation, and Diego was proud of them.

“Night, Mr. D!” The last student said cheerfully, carrying a Tupperware container in her arms.

“Night, Jazzy,” Diego replied, cleaning out the compartment sinks. He gave her a warm smile and a wave as she left.

Diego let out a tired sigh. He loved his job and being here. He loved the kids he worked with. But some days it could be exhausting.

"I'm heading out, Diego," the manager said. "Unless you need anything from me?"

"I'm good, Yesenia," Diego said, draining the sinks as his final step. "Be right behind you as soon as I put away these dishes."

"Kids did good today," she hummed, a warm smile on her face. She was an older woman, in her late fifties with kind laughter lines around her eyes. She reminded Diego a little of the manager from his first job. Martha. "No matter how many students that come through the program, their favorite part is your little knife demonstration. In all my years in the industry, I've never known anyone as...passionate about knives as you are."

Diego shrugged, trying not to blush under the praise. "It's a gift, really. Like your singing. And no--I won't tell you my secret when it comes to the throwing knife trick."

She laughed. "As your manager, I have no idea what you're talking about. I have no knowledge of you doing anything with kitchen knives other than proper safety procedures." She said it teasingly. "But--I will say, after nearly twenty times watching you do that demonstration, you've never once dropped the knife. It's impressive. Some kind of gift."

Yesenia was a kind woman who run primarily the front of the restaurant, showing students how to be great waitstaff. Diego worked in the back, showing the students how to prepare and cook. They worked well together, and her kindness is what helped Diego get through some tough times of his own.

"Goodnight, Diego," she said, heading out the back door toward the parking lot.

Diego finished putting away the clean dishes in their proper places, turning off all the lights, and locked up behind him.

It was a nice night out, and Diego took a deep breath of the fresh city air. It wasn't too late, still early in the evening and everything felt so calm yet lively. It was what he loved about living here. 

In the distance he could hear the cars and the buses. And not two doors down from the restaurant, he could hear the chatter of--

A familiar nervous laugh that stopped him dead in his tracks.

"--lations! You're gonna be a brother. Yeah, perfect."

Diego took a few steps closer, really getting a good look. The familiar tall, skinny frame dressed in boots, black pants and a black overcoat, crouched down on the sidewalk. His hair was much shorter than when Diego remembered him, but he knew if the buzzcut was any longer, the hair would be the perfect curls that Diego used to love running his fingers through.

Diego was frozen to the spot.

"K-Klaus?"

Klaus stopped in his tracks at the sound of Diego's voice, slowly turning around.

The moment their eyes met it was like fireworks all over again. Klaus brought his hands to cover over his mouth in shock, eyes filling with tears of sheer happiness. For a moment, Diego forgot the past ten years and he was so happy to see Klaus again. The memories of them together washed over him, and Diego felt like his heart was going to burst from feelings so complete again.

For a brief, horrible moment, Diego thought Klaus was going to hug him--and Diego would probably let him.

But instead Klaus seemed rooted to the spot just as much as Diego was.

"Diego," Klaus whispered, and it sounded like a prayer, the joy so evident in Klaus' voice. "Di, it's you, isn't it? God, look at you. You've--you look amazing--"

"K-Klaus, what are--wh-what are you d-doing here?" Diego asked, so caught off guard. He licked his lips, trying to take a deep breath. He needed to gain control of the situation, of himself. "It's been almost ten years."

"I know," Klaus said, looking so...lost. "I know. And I wouldn't have come otherwise, but...I had to know for sure it was you. I had to--not right now man, grown ups are talking—No, not you Diego. Sorry."

Diego noticed the change in Klaus' tone, and he looked around. There was no one there.

Diego had a sinking feeling in his chest.

“Klaus...who are you talking to?” Diego asked, glancing around.

“Bluetooth,” Klaus said, pointing to the tiny little wireless earbud in his ear. Diego let out a slow breath. “Sorry, Fivey, you said you’d let me get a few minutes—“

In less than a minute, Diego felt like he was back in Klaus’ whirlwind again.

“I was in the neighborhood, me and—well, my brother really—“

“You don’t have a brother,” Diego countered, still trying to catch up. That Klaus was here, in the flesh. Then he remembered Klaus was adopted, a little tidbit from their time together. “You have a brother?”

“Bit of a long story,” Klaus said. “It’s so good to see you, Di. God, look at you. Really—filled out those shirts haven’t you?”

“Klaus—“ Diego said carefully. “We haven’t seen each other in almost a decade. How the hell—why the hell are you here?”

“Like I said, it’s—a long story,” he said with a smile. “But with a happy ending! And I’ll bore you with all the details—well, Five will—but first I just—“

This time Klaus did reach out and Diego took a step back before those long slender fingers could touch him. “—wanted to catch up. Diego...look, I’m...I’m sorry for how things ended. I’m a different person now, I swear.”

“Klaus—“ his heart was pounding, confused. Scared. Angry.

“I promise you, Di. Let’s go somewhere and catch up—Five just for a minute, please—“

Klaus told Diego he was using Bluetooth but Klaus’ eyes were focused nearby as if talking to someone. Diego knew this well.

“You’re using again,” Diego said and shook his head.

“Diego, no I’ve been clean since you walked out—“

“You s-still think you’re talking to—to ghosts—“

“Well I can talk to ghosts!” He said cheerfully. “I have powers, just like you, Di. I wish you had told me you did—“

“Are you here for money, Klaus? That’s what this is? You—you see my name in the paper and you—“

“Diego it’s not like that—“

“You  _ promised _ —“

“Hey, asshole!”

An unfamiliar voice shouted at him. Diego turned, eyes widening at the sight of a young boy in a school uniform who was  _ glowing in blue-white light _ .

Something big and round was flying through the air toward him. Diego could feel the air around him shift, feel the object’s intensity as it came toward him. He raised his hands to shield himself instinctively.

The object slowed down just a little for a split second, before it hit Diego square in the head and knocked him unconscious.

\-- -- -- --

“—said I’d give you a few minutes. I gave you a few minutes, and you almost sent him running.”

Diego‘s eyes opened and he groaned, the two voices arguing above him. One was familiar, melodic and with a sweetness to it while the other was unfamiliar, cold, and reminded Diego of a hissing cat.

“I didn’t want to scare him, Five, he’s—it’s different with him, he’s delicate—“

“What part of ‘we are on a time clock’ don’t you understand? Clearly you’re an idiot in both timelines.”

“Klaus?” Diego looked around. Thankfully he was still outside, and he was leaning up against the wall of a building. His head hurt like hell.

“Diego.” Klaus was kneeling at his side in an instant. “Hey. It’s okay. You’re not bleeding, thankfully. Five just decided to play asshole frisbee.”

He glanced around, seeing no one else there. But it was weird, he swore he heard another voice and saw—

“The kid,” Diego said. “Some kid threw something at me. But he was—“

“Oh,” Klaus said. “Yeah. He’s kinda—my not-quite dead brother.”

“Diego, meet Five, oh—“ Klaus paused, putting his hands together. They fucking glowed.

Then the kid glowed too, appearing at his side.

Diego was pretty sure he had a concussion or was still unconscious.

“Diego, this is Five. My time-traveling ghost brother from another timeline. Five, meet Diego. The love of my life and ex boyfriend.”

“Pleasure.” The kid said, and it sounded like anything but. “Diego, I need your help.”

A whirlwind indeed.

\-- -- -- -- 

The restaurant was quiet, just the—two? Three?—of them in it.

Diego had gotten one of the bottles of whiskey off of the shelf in the bar, pouring himself a glass and downed it as a shot. He hoped it would calm his nerves.

It didn’t.

“So...time travel.” Diego started carefully, trying to piece together everything the two had told them. “Time travel where we were superheroes.”

“Not just any superheroes,” Klaus said. “ _ The _ superheroes. It’s a lot, I know.”

“We need to fix things,” the boy—Five—was saying. He still had a faint glow, as did Klaus’ hands. “Set things back to the way they were. And in order to do that, we need you, Diego, and the other four of the Umbrella Academy.”

“This is nuts,” Diego said, sipping his whiskey again. “I mean, I grew up reading the Sparrow Academy comics. And I don’t have any powers. I—“

_ You’re just a fucked up crazy junkie and I can’t keep listening to your delusions! _

Klaus really did have powers.

Diego felt sick.

“Hey,” Klaus’ hand reached out for Diego’s, then stopped midair. Diego watched him swallow, hand resting on the table. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Klaus’ touch, but wasn’t sure if he didn’t either. “It’s okay, Di.”

“There were a handful of babies born on the same time, the same day. October 1st 1989. We all have powers. Yours specifically is the ability to manipulate the trajectory of any projectile, especially ones you throw. In the original timeline, your weapon of choice was knives.”

“I don’t want powers,” Diego said, feeling his voice coming back for the first time since he saw Klaus. “And I don’t want to help you. I’m sorry you came all this way. But I can’t—I can’t.”

“If you don’t help us, then you’re dooming the world,” Five said. Something in his expression scared Diego. “I went to the future and I saw what’s to come. What we did by our actions. The Sparrow Academy is going to cause a Cataclysmic event that will end the world as you know it.”

“I don’t care!” Diego said. “I have a life here! You can’t just—come back all these years later with this...wild bullshit and expect me to just jump and say ‘yes’! I put my life on hold for you for so long, Klaus. I can’t do it again. And maybe—in some other timeline or whatever I had powers. But I don’t here.”

A fork thrown at him that Diego dodged. A spoon. A knife—

**_“Stop throwing things at me!”_ **

And the butter knife hovered in the air, right in front of Diego’s palm. He could feel it, the movement and force behind it. He let it curve, darting at a right angle to clatter to the floor.

He was breathing heavily, heart racing. It had to be a trick.

Klaus’ eyes were wide, and Five had a smirk on his face.

_ The knife trick. Throwing the knife in the air and catching it without looking. People asking Diego how he did it and truthfully it always just came to him naturally. _

Diego bolted out of the chair and ran out of the restaurant, hearing Klaus’ pleas fading away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diego still has the personality of someone to prove, but without Reginald's influence he's a lot softer now. Which also means he's not our fiesty little stabby boi right now. Will he become that? Tune in next time and find out.


	4. Number Five | The Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five gets banished by Klaus on accident, and where he's sent is not at all where he wants to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have all been wonderful with your kudos and comments!!! I love you all and I've been very much inspired to keep writing. This one doesn't have much Kliego in it, as it's mostly from Five's perspective, but there is some brotherly bonding that I love.

“You _idiot_!”

Five hissed at his brother, right up in his face. “I should have never let you talk to him first.”

“Me? You think I spooked Diego and not—your whole ‘time travel is real and you have superpowers now please fight your childhood heroes’?’”

Five’s anger curled white-hot. “We need Diego to fight with us in order for our plan to work.”

“ _Your_ plan, bro. Not ours.” Klaus was rummaging through his duffel bag as if looking for something. “It was a mistake to come here.”

Five felt his anger building, simmering. Klaus was not his Klaus, instead a muted, dull version of his brother. Diego was some—well, Diego had always been soft and weak, but even more now.

Despite Five’s feelings toward his siblings—his real siblings—that they screwed up with even the best intentions, he’d take them over these... _wrong_ versions any day.

Five was going to fix it or die trying.

“You really don’t give a shit about anyone other than yourself, do you?” Klaus asked, zipping up the duffel. “You don’t care about me, or Diego, or—dropping this shit on us, bringing up old feelings—“

“I don’t care about you and Diego’s whiny little love story!” Five snapped. “Your connection is only temporal bleed through. Like deja vu. You only felt close because you knew each other well in another timeline.”

His brother stormed right through Five, making a beeline for the mini fridge. He opened it up to grab a bottle of beer like he was dying of thirst.

“In less than three weeks the world is ending,” Five bit off. “And you’re wasting precious time drinking _beer_?”

Klaus stopped mid-gulp, looking at the bottle as he seemed to realize what he was doing. “You’re right, Five. I need something stronger.”

Five could feel his anger in his fingertips like electricity. He wanted to murder the other man.

He tried a different tactic, trying to school his features to become less threatening. After all, Klaus was his second favorite sibling.

“In less than three weeks, the world will end as we know it. People will die, Klaus. Including Diego and anyone else you care about. So you either help me, or you kill them.”

“You know what, go help yourself.” Klaus said. “I’m done. I’m done being your personal ghost Uber. You’re on your own.”

This Klaus was wrong. This Klaus was pricklier, and it set off all of Five’s alarms.

“Need I remind you, I can still possess you. All of this is a formality.” Five challenged, eyes hard.

“Bullshit,” Klaus said. “I’m don’t remember a lot about that—other timeline, but I do remember how much of an asshole brother you were. You only do things for yourself. If you could possess me, you’d have done it by now.”

“Careful, Klaus—“

“So come on, big bro, jump my bones and take this body for a spin—“

It wasn’t Five’s wisest move, but with a yell he ran toward Klaus, fully intending to possess him like he did the day before.

Something was different though, a clash of energy from Five and Klaus’ powers. It was like he hit some kind of force field, and Five was lifted off his feet and falling backwards, falling, falling—

\--- --- ---

Five woke up in pain, coughing. He could feel a thick fluid in his cough, the coppery metallic taste of his own blood. He spit it out on the ground next to him.

How could he be bleeding when he didn’t have a body?

He felt a sharp pain in his side, noting the blood that was soaking through his shirt. A white button down shirt, and not the uniform he was used to wearing.

Where the hell was he? _When_ the hell was he?

His surroundings were unfamiliar, a dingy apartment with horrible green carpet and a ceiling with decorative holes.

“I told you you got it wrong," said a voice next to him.

A beautiful woman was standing at his side, watching him in concern and care. She had beautiful green eyes, a soft white and black dress shirt that was stained in blood. He didn't recognize her, but he knew that it was her favorite shirt, and it was now ruined by his blood.

The scene around him changed, and he was no longer in the living room.

It seemed to phase out seamlessly into a room that he _did_ recognize, one that he had spent countless times waking up in after a particularly risky mission.

The Commission Headquarters infirmary.

“You gave us all a scare, Five,” the Handler said, where the beautiful woman had been standing just moments before. Boredom and fake concern oozed from her voice. “Can’t have our best assassin bleeding out on the job, now can we?”

Five wanted to hiss, to ask her how the hell she was still alive, to tell her that he didn’t work for her anymore.

Instead the words fell out of his mouth involuntarily, as if someone else speaking through him. "Just another perk of the job."

His voice sounded—well, like his again. His true self, his fifty-eight year old self again.

“Mission was a success, except your little tiff at the end," the Handler said, a small smirk on her face. "Baez managed to shove a dagger through your kidney before you took him out. But don’t worry, you get another one.”

Baez? His kidney? No...that couldn’t be. That was his tenth mission with the Commission, years ago. Decades, it felt.

The Handler was talking about his next mission, lacing in praise to him. Five was angry how he hadn’t seen through her. He knew she had been manipulative, but hadn’t realized her level of manipulation until now. But it seemed he was still just a passenger to his body, moving without any sort of control, like someone else was doing it.

Mustering all of the strength he had, Five managed to control his body again, his very adult fingers curling around her wrist hard, cutting her off mid-ramble.

“You're supposed to be dead,” he hissed through his teeth, nothing but pure hatred in his voice.

The Handler paused, cocking her head to the side as she surveyed him. “You’re not Five.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but he felt the presence of another consciousness trying to take control. He understood now: his conscious mind was dropped into the body of some point of his past.

She continued. “Well. You’re _a_ Five. Not the one from this time.”

“The Sparrow Academy—“ his body spoke again without him controlling that.

“Oh, Mr. Hargreeves, someone’s been tinkering with the timeline, haven’t you?” She tilted her head. She walked over to the machine that oversaw his treatment and medication, hitting a button.

Within seconds, Five could feel the sedative starting to take over his body, eyes fluttering to a close.

“Can’t have any spoilers now, can we?"

\--- --- ---

Five woke up in the worst pain he had ever felt, as if his body was being pulled apart in multiple directions. Everything around him was pitch black, and all he could hear was screaming and people calling his name from the darkness, their voices overlapping.

_Why did you kill me, Five? Look at what you've done to me, Five Hargreeves!_

He recognized some of their voices, and when they got close to him--he could see their faces. He'd recognize his work anywhere.

He felt hands on him, pushing him, pulling him.

_We’ll take you with us!_

The spirits of his kills were pulling him into the Void, into the Nothing, into whatever hell that Five knew was waiting for him. Five struggled against their grasp, but there were too many.

He never felt guilty for any of his kills, but he did feel a little bit of remorse for _not_ feeling guilty. He knew that it was wrong, that he should care, and that these spirits were justified in dragging him to Hell.

The ends always justified the means, and every kill was to save his family.

His family. They still needed saving. He owed it to them for erasing them from the timeline.

Pushing past the immense pain, he used every ounce of strength he had left to open up a breach, stepping through and promptly passed out on the motel floor.

\--- --- ---

Five woke up sometime later, feeling a plush softness under him and a warmth around him. The pain was gone, and as he opened his eyes he recognized the ugly wallpaper of the motel.

Klaus was sitting at his side on the bed, his eyes closed in concentration. Klaus’ hand was on top of Five’s forearm, a warm blue light connecting them.

“What the hell—?” Five mumbled but it came out as if around a mouth of cotton.

"Five," Klaus breathed, and for a moment, Five saw his brother again. He saw the care, the warmth and recognition. "Had us worried for a second, man. You stormed off and then came back looking--well, deader."

Dead. That's right. Five wasn't alive, but he wasn't dead either.

Five jerked his hand back from Klaus’ as he remembered, anger filling him again. This wasn’t his brother, but some _wrong_ alternate version of him.

“You banished me, asshole,” Five said with a scowl. “And it appears that if I’m not in your presence, the timeline will still try to delete me.”

There was a long silence that fell over them, Klaus’ eyes a soft green as he picked at the sheets of the motel bed.

“I remember when we were kids, you left. And we all waited for you to come back. But as time went on...I guess we just thought you were dead. But if you were dead, I would have been able to conjure you. I didn’t know what was worse.”

Five frowned at that, discomfort growing within him. He had years of experience reading between the lines at the Commission, and he recognized a Hargreeves apology when he saw it.

He thought of all of the spirits dragging him to Hell, where he knew he deserved.

Five never did feelings except to Dolores, and even then she always understood what he was trying to say when he could never say it.

He turned to Klaus, noting the bead of sweat pearling on Klaus’ forehead as the medium tried to keep Five corporeal for as long as he could. Five wondered if there was purpose beyond Klaus’ ridiculous need to take care of everyone. Five could feel the warmth of the motel sheets, the softness of the mattress beneath him.

This Klaus was not his brother, not really. But between whatever memories of the original timeline Klaus now had because of their powers interacting and—whoever Klaus was at the very core of him, he could see traces of his brother.

There was true comfort in that.

“I suppose,” Five started, turning his head away from Klaus, staring up at the ugly green motel wall. “I underestimated your usefulness.”

“Wunderbar,” Klaus said with delight a moment later. Five noted that the beer that Klaus had opened however long before was still in the same spot, untouched. “Shall we go for round two with Diego?”

Five eyed him. “You’re not going to have a mental breakdown again?”

“What? No, water over bridge or whatever,” Klaus dismissed. “Besides. If I help you we both get what we want. You go back to your timeline with your siblings. I spend time with Diego saving the world, we get back together and live happily ever after.”

Five said nothing to that. There were bigger and more important issues at hand. Still. He needed all of the intel to any mission.

“What happened between you two?” He asked. Not that he cared, but it might help get Diego on his side.

“Oh you know,” he said. “He was a boy, I was a—genderqueer non-binary fuck-up, can I make it any more obvious? He was a cook, I did cocaine. What more can I—“

“If you keep quoting that dumb song, I'll cut out your tongue and shove it down your throat.”

“Why, Fivey, I’d never expect you to know all the wonderful pop music of our time.” Klaus laid back on the bed, draped across Five’s legs.

The room was quiet for a moment. Five could feel the warmth of Klaus' back on his feet. Normally he would kick him off, but there was comfort in knowing he could actually have physical sensations when he had none for so long now.

“I screwed up," Klaus confessed softly. "Diego was this—amazing, wonderful partner who had every ounce of patience with me. But I—fucked it up big time and he hated me. He still does probably. I don’t blame him.”

“I can see if I possess him. Highly doubtful, given his powers are more rooted in physics rather than metaphysics.”

“You know, your brother is up here banging around in my head,” Klaus said, still staring up at the ceiling. “And I remember Diego, your Diego. And at the root of Diego, he’s…a gentle soul. Always so loving, caring. And the heart of a hero--save the cheerleader, save the world type hero. He might need some convincing but—my Diego, _our_ Diego—I don’t think he could turn his back on saving the world.”

“Yeah, well, let’s hope you’re right,” Five said. “We’ll let him cool off, give him time before approaching him again. We know where he lives, where he works. And he’s not bright enough to disappear without a trace. We’ll come up with a plan and stick to it tomorrow. No variations. And in the meantime—you should rest, Klaus. You haven’t slept since I first came to you.”

“Aww, how thoughtful, bro,” Klaus said and yawned. “Look at you self-actualizing and all that.”

“I _need_ you to be well-rested so that you can make sure I’m able to talk to Diego,” Five said and nudged him with his foot. “I don’t trust you to talk to him on your own without screwing things up again.”

“Ouch, point taken,” Klaus said and yawned. He shimmied up the bed, curling up next to Five. Five would've protested, except he was still winded from his travels and he was worried if he spoke, that Klaus would release him back to his non-corporeal state.

Klaus fell asleep almost instantly, but it took another five minutes for his powers to turn off.

Maybe, just maybe, Klaus was still his brother after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite being a 4'11 ball of anger who is constantly mistaken for a teenager even though I'm nearly 30, Five was surprisingly difficult to write. There will be some questions answered soon like the meaning of Five's little side adventure and what it meant. Anyway, I hope y'all liked it!
> 
> To make up for the lack of Kliego, there will be more fluff in the next chapter so stay tuned!


	5. 2011 - Nine Years Ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus and Diego have been together for two months. Diego learns a shocking truth about Klaus that changes their relationship forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the wonderful feedback! I love you all. You might have noticed the rating went up to Mature. Nothing too explicit, but the beginning has a bit of cute naked fluff. This was a fun chapter to write because it gives a lot more insight to Klaus as he is in this life while also trying to stay true to the character. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Diego woke up to the sound of Klaus’ pencil shading over the sketch pad. He kissed Klaus’ shoulder.

“You’re so fucking loud,” Diego mumbled, but it had no bite to it.

Klaus was in deep concentration, and in the dim light filtering through the blinds Diego could see the sketch of them sleeping, naked aside from the blankets, with Klaus curled against Diego’s chest.

They’d been together two weeks now, but last night was the first time it went further than kissing.

“I couldn’t get the drool line from your mouth to the pillow right,” Klaus said in retaliation.

“I don’t drool,” Diego scowled. But he glanced at the small spot on the pillow in Klaus’ sketch and saw a perfect parallel to real life. He kissed the spot below Klaus’ ear, down to his neck over a bite he left the night before. “You’re an ass.”

“Great ass, though,” Klaus responded cheekily. He tilted his head up to let Diego lavish attention on him without stopping his sketch.

“My ass is better,” Diego said, kissing over Klaus’ collarbone, hand moving under the covers to run his blunt nails over the swell of Klaus ass, giving it a firm smack.

“Someone’s in a good mood this morning,” Klaus said, finally and carefully tossing his sketchbook on the floor next to them. He turned into Diego’s arms, letting their legs tangle together. “Does this mean no breakfast? I was promised a famous Diego Ruiz breakfast. Though I suppose I can settle for a real Meat Lovers’ Delight special.”

“I’ll never be able to see that on the menu the same way again,” Diego laughed, hands trailing over Klaus’ back as they kissed.

They moved slow and unhurried, just enjoying each other in a way they never did before.

“This isn’t weird is it?” Diego asked Klaus, fingers coming up to gently tangle in his hair.

“Diego, are you having a big gay panic or something? Because I’d have thought that ship was sailed when you were sucking my dick like you knew what you were doing last night.”

Diego smacked Klaus’ ass again. “No. I’ve been with—well. I dated a guy in high school for a couple months but we never—did anything. That’s not it. I mean...us. We’ve been best friends for like half a year.”

“Oh yeah,” Klaus said with a pause. “Well, if it helps I’ve had a big gay crush on you since you first asked to bum a cigarette.”

“Yeah?” Diego felt his heart race a little. This was so new, so tentative and it felt like the best thing he ever had. “Wanna know a secret? I didn’t really smoke before I saw you. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

He wasn’t expecting the smacks to the arm, and it startled out a chuckle. “Diego! That is—oddly romantic and bad for your health! What happened to not putting shit into your body?”

Diego laughed, tucking a curl behind Klaus’ ear. “Relax, baby. I only smoke when I'm with you. And how the hell was I supposed to approach you? You were this... beautiful enigma. I was so nervous to talk to you. You’re like a...nymph or a goddamn succubus or some other type of creature of darkness.”

“Well, I do talk to ghosts so there is that. Maybe I'm really an alien.”

Klaus always did say strange things, but Diego loved that about him.

Diego kissed him again, bringing Klaus onto his lap. “Well come on ET. I got something you can probe.”

“That was terrible,” Klaus said with a gasp as Diego rolled Klaus’ nipple between his fingers. “We really should work on your dirty talk, Diego. Or else I’m going to start getting conditioned to pop boners after really bad jokes. And I really don't want to start suddenly finding Adam Sandler sexy.”

Diego laughed and kissed him, rolling Klaus back under him. He was in love, and he wanted to stay this way forever.

\-- -- -- 

Diego hadn't heard from Klaus in a week.

They’d officially been together for two months now, but it felt like so much longer. He didn’t know he could feel that way for another person, didn’t know he could feel happy and complete and yet want Klaus more and more every day.

He was dancing at work, cooking at home, and he couldn’t be happier.

He was used to Klaus being Klaus, randomly going days without picking up his phone, usually distracted by a new art piece he was working on or new hobby he was doing. Klaus seemed to love the arts and trying new mediums. Diego wasn't worried.

Except this was the first time it happened while they were together, and the longest he’d disappeared.

“Diego.” Martha found him sweeping the bathrooms at the restaurant. “I’d like your help moving some Halloween decorations up from the basement.”

Martha was a tough woman, but she was always kind to Diego. She had a faded German accent that spoke of her upbringing, a tone that was always succinct and commanding. Though she and Klaus were family, they were entirely different. Where Klaus was otherworldly and spoke like a gentle breeze before a hurricane, Martha was down to Earth and her voice grounded.

“Yes, ma’am,” Diego said with a nod, putting down his broom.

He went to the back of the restaurant, down the creepy looking stairs and into the creepier looking basement that kept all of the restaurants’ storage. Furniture, bins of decorations, extra supplies and uniforms. It took up the entirety of the floor.

Martha followed him, leading him to the bins of decorations. Diego could see the fall colors and what looked like Halloween decoration toward the back.

"Hey, um, Miss Martha?" Diego began, moving to pull the large bin forward. "Is everything okay with Klaus?"

There was a long pause behind him, and Diego was wondering for a moment if she had heard him. He opened his mouth to ask again, but Martha shook her head.

"Why do you ask?" Martha asked, voice careful.

"It's just--I haven't seen him come in, and he hasn't returned any of my calls or texts--" and it occurred to Diego he was starting to sound like a clingy boyfriend, or a stalker, if Martha didn’t know about them. "I-I just mean if he's sick, or you know, if he's--"

“Diego, I am going to ask you a question," Martha said, stilling Diego's speech to a halt. "I want you to think very carefully before you answer, but I want it to be the truth. I want you to tell me the nature of your relationship to my nephew. I know you two have been seeing each other these past few weeks.”

“I—“ Diego for the first time truly felt fear and panic. He knew he loved Klaus, knew that Klaus was....open with how he dressed. But was Martha okay with—?

“I don’t care what gender Klaus is attracted to. He has never kept that a secret. That is not what I'm asking. I'm asking about you and him.”

“Oh,” Diego said. He felt his heart racing, could feel his language start to freeze in his mind. He took a deep breath. “Klaus is amazing. He’s my b-best friend and I—I love him. I'm in love with him.”

Martha opened the bin, examining the decorations there. She pulled out a small pumpkin, wiping the dust off with a rag.

Martha hummed. “And I’m sure you think the feeling is mutual. Has Klaus told you about his secret? His—vices?”

“I know he’s in NA,” Diego said. “He’s a recovering addict.”

“I’m sure that’s what he told you,” she said. “Diego, dear. I like you. You are a good boy with a good heart. And Klaus has many demons. He is a troubled boy. He’s been through many, many hardships. You need to be very careful.”

“I would never hurt him,” Diego bristled at the implication.

“It’s not Klaus I’m worried about getting hurt,” Martha said, placing the pumpkin decoration down. She picked up another, a fake skeleton. “It’s you, Diego. Klaus, he’s—how should I say—his addictions, his vices. They are not all drugs.”

Diego frowned. This wasn’t right. He didn’t need to be hearing this. It felt like an invasion of Klaus privacy, and yet he was rooted to the spot.

“Klaus is a very sick boy,” Martha said, voice casual and terse despite the weight of her words. “My sister and her husband adopted Klaus when he was a toddler. He'd been in the foster system for two years, abandoned as a newborn. He was a difficult child. Talked to himself, to people that weren't there. At first, my sister thought he just was working through his hardships, as children with his background often do. But he got older, and he still kept talking about hearing voices. The doctors diagnosed him with schizophrenia at age twelve.”

“I don't want to know." Diego put his hands out, a little surprised and proud at how calm he sounded despite the fact that he was shaking. “I’m sorry, ma’am, it’s just—that’s personal. It doesn’t stop me from feeling the way I do about him. Everyone’s got shit we’re dealing with.”

“Like I said, Diego,” Martha said as she put down the skeleton, finding a ghost decoration and began to wipe that down. "You have a good heart. I am not telling you this to hurt Klaus, or you. But I've seen this cycle in Klaus many, many times. He finds a reason to stay clean--some boy, or girl, that he swears he'll do right by. And it works for a little while. Then he starts hearing the voices, starts seeing things, and he jumps right back into his vices. His addictions--drugs, sure, but also pulling people down into his chaos to suffer with him. Disappearing on those close to him so that they come running. The last boy who was the love of his life found Klaus in bed with someone else--twice, strung out. Another girl Klaus swore he’d marry ended up in the hospital after OD’ing on heroine. She had not touched drugs before she met him and is now in and out of rehab. Klaus is a troubled boy who is addicted to making others troubled too."

“Stop,” Diego said, taking a step back, his whole body shaking. “Nothing will make me leave Klaus. He’s the best thing in my life. And—if that’s true, then I just need to be there for him even more.”

“If that’s how you feel,” Martha said, eyeing him with pity. “You’re a good kid, Diego. And a very good chef. You know, I’ve been looking at you to take Oscar’s spot in Prep. You’re so skilled with a knife, almost like a match made in Heaven.”

His eyes went big and round, excitement filling him. Oscar was going to be going back to Mexico indefinitely, and he and Diego worked together a couple times already.

“A shame I’ll have to find someone else,” she continued. “I’m looking for long term, and on the chance something terrible happens between you and my nephew...I’m not sure that I’d trust you to work together.”

“Klaus and I won’t break up,” Diego said firmly. “Whatever happened before, it won’t happen with me. I love and accept Klaus for who he is, and I would never let anything bad happen to him. And even if we break up...our friendship is more important than anything. You’re wrong.”

Martha gave him a long gaze, before giving him a warm smile and patted Diego's cheek. "Of course. Now, be a dear and bring the rest upstairs?"

Diego swallowed and nodded, taking the bin of decorations. He made his way toward the stairwell, before he turned back to look at her. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He needed to get home, to talk to Klaus.

He cleaned the bathrooms two more times without even realizing it.

\-- -- --

Klaus was sprawled on Diego’s bed when Diego got home work that day, long gangly arms and legs stretched out as he stared up at the ceiling.

“How the hell did you get in?” Diego asked, dropping the kitchen knife he’d been holding at the worry that there was an intruder. He hadn’t given Klaus a key.

“I climbed through the window,” Klaus said casually.

“I live on the second floor.”

“I was wearing—really high heels,” Klaus said, then giggled at himself.

Diego stopped. “Are you high?”

“On life!” Klaus said, craning his neck to finally look at Diego, reaching out for him. His eyes were a little red, pupils blown. “And just a _little_ smidgeon of weed.”

“Are you supposed to be smoking weed?”

“Relax, Di, it’s fine,” Klaus said, but Diego was still unsure. “It’s just weed. It’s not gonna send me—spiraling or whatever. Come here, kiss me.”

Martha's words were fresh in the back of his mind.

Diego sat on the bed next to Klaus. “You haven’t texted me back or returned any of my calls. Where the hell have you been?”

“Oh, sorry,” Klaus said. “I forgot to charge my phone."

"For a _week_?"

"And then," Klaus held up a finger. "I got caught up with some sketches I was working on. I drew a bible-accurate angel, but instead of eyes it’s nothing but rings of beautiful nipples.”

“Klaus.”

"What, do you think I should add some genitalia too? I wasn't sure what with them being angels and all. Creatures of--purity and shit."

" _Klaus._ "

"Alright, fine, I'll add the genitalia," Klaus said with a sigh. "Dicks and vaginas and--mix it up a little. Angels are above gender and sex and stuff."

"I don't give a shit about angels, Klaus!" Diego snapped at him, standing up. He immediately felt bad about snapping at Klaus when already his boyfriend seemed to be in a fragile state. Or something. But all he could think of was Martha's words. He'd been wound up the past two days.

"What's wrong, Diego?"

"What's--" Diego took a small pause and lowered his voice as best as he could. "What's wrong, Klaus, is that you ghosted me for a week and a half, then randomly break into my apartment high out of your mind when you're supposed to be sober!"

Klaus got up, kneeling on the edge of the bed, tugging on the waistline of Diego's pants to try to bring him closer. "Are we fighting? Is this our first fight? _Wie romantisch!_ "

Diego didn't respond, trying to slow his breathing. Trying to picture the words he wanted to say, what he needed to say before this truly escalated into a fight. He was tired, and worried, and not dealing in the way he knew he should be.

"Hey, hey," Klaus seemed to finally see the seriousness of the situation, resting the palms of his hands against Diego's hip and side like a plea. "I'm sorry, Di. Really. I had a fight with my mom last week, real bad. And it just sent me to a really dark place. I just—I didn’t want you to see me like that. If I had known it bugged you so much I’d have said something.”

Diego’s anger deflated from him with a sigh. He turned to Klaus, putting his hand on top of Klaus’. “I was just worried. Every time you pull that disappearing shit, I worry.”

“I promise, next time I’ll send a message or something,” Klaus said. “I didn’t want you to worry. I thought if I told you I was bummed you’d worry. I screwed up.”

Diego brought Klaus’ hand to his lips, kissing the palm of his hand. “No. No it’s okay. I’m sorry I snapped at you. It’s been a long day at work.”

“You wanna talk about it? I’ll make tea.” Klaus rubbed Diego’s back soothingly, the last of Diego’s anger dissipating.

“No, it’s fine,” Diego said, leaning into the touch. He closed his eyes for a moment. “You wanna talk about what happened with your mom?”

“Just another perk of living with her,” Klaus said with a sigh. “She and Aunt Em think they have my whole future planned out, like I’m—made of glass. And if I try to go my own way and do something I want, I’m a problem child.”

“All parents want the best for their kids, don’t they?” Diego said, thinking of his own. Of Martha cornering him just hours earlier.

“Wouldn’t know,” Klaus said and laid back. “My parents adopted me when I was little. My dad bailed when I was eight. My mom always treated me like I was this project she could fix. Like I was some defective product she bought and couldn’t return.”

“That’s bullshit,” Diego said, sitting at the edge of the bed, his hand still on Klaus’. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Yeah, well, try telling that to them,” Klaus sighed. “Mom couldn’t deal with me on her own, so that’s when she moved here to the States with Aunt Em.”

Diego paused at the mention of Martha, licking his lips. “Listen...earlier. Martha pulled me aside to talk to me. She knows about us.”

“Oh, yippee,” Klaus said with an eye roll. “One more thing she can harp on. Let me guess, she tried to scare you into breaking up with me.”

“Yeah,” he said. He took a deep breath. “She—said some things that were really shitty, Klaus.”

Klaus lolled his head to the side to look at Diego. His eyes were less hazy now. “Yeah? What’d she say?”

He swallowed. “She...told me that you have schizophrenia. That you—hear voices. And that—your addictions aren’t just around drugs.”

“Oh,” Klaus said with a sigh, and Diego felt horrible for bringing it up as he saw the visible shame that graced Klaus’ face. “Yeah. That.”

Diego paused, running his thumb over the inside of Klaus’ wrist, feeling his pulse there. “I told her it didn’t change how I feel about you. It doesn’t. You’re my best friend, Klaus. And my boyfriend. And I wouldn’t change that for anything.”

Klaus seemed to relax more at that. He was visibly crashing from the high, withdrawing more into himself.

“Schizoaffective disorder is what they call it,” Klaus said. “Like if schizophrenia and bipolar disorder had a baby. Voices, hallucinations, delusions...then the manic-depression. Mostly the manic. Best of both worlds, baby.”

“Klaus…“

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think I’m crazy. I didn’t want the pity, you know? Like the way you’re looking at me now.”

Diego felt so guilty. He kissed Klaus’ hand again. “It’s not pity. So what, you got problems? We all do. I don’t pity you, Klaus. Maybe I’m just mad you thought I’d judge you for it. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Klaus gave a self-deprecating laugh. “You have no idea, Di. I see ghosts! I talk to the dead! You know, when I was in Kindergarten, new kid and all, some girl died in my class. And I kept telling the teacher and other kids I could see her. And you know what happened? I was sent to the principal’s office for being insensitive. All the little kids would pick on me. The only friend I had was Deirdre, and she was _dead_. So yeah, I think there’s something wrong with me.”

“Klaus.” Diego squeezed Klaus’ hand, heart breaking at the way his boyfriend’s eyes were wet, but not shedding any tears. Klaus looked resigned to his fate and Diego didn’t know what to do. “Look at me. _Mira—look at me._ ”

Klaus finally turned to look at Diego, and Diego could truly see the pain that Klaus was holding for so long. “Klaus. This doesn’t change anything. We’ve hung out what, almost a year right? Nonstop. I _know_ you. You got dealt a shitty hand. But you are a good soul. A good heart. Whatever shit you got going on up in your head? We’ll deal with it. Help you.”

Klaus was quiet, nodding. “Can I—crash here? I don’t want to go back to my mom.”

“Yeah,” Diego said. This was the most raw, most open he’d seen Klaus be. It scared him. He kissed Klaus’ forehead. “When’s the last time you ate? I’ll make us some dinner.”

He saw Klaus’ lips quirk up just a little. Klaus would never say no to Diego’s cooking. “I could eat.”

“Sleep off the weed,” Diego said. “I’ll come check on you when the food’s ready.”

“Diego?” Klaus’ voice was so soft and made Diego pause. “What if I told you—it was real? That I really can see ghosts?”

Diego was at a loss of what to say. Ghosts weren’t real, and he didn’t want to feed into Klaus’ delusions in case it made it worse. But he didn’t want to make Klaus feel crazy or dismiss him.

“I’d tell you...” Diego chose his words carefully. “That it still wouldn’t make a difference. That I love you.”

“You love me?” Klaus’ voice held more of a spark to it. More hope, more awe.

“Yeah,” Diego said, feeling more like himself again. He was tired from the rollercoaster of emotions this week, just wanting to get back to some kind of normalcy. “Yeah, Klaus. I do. Now take a nap before I suffocate you with the pillow.”

“Promises, promises,” Klaus murmured, positioning himself to get more comfortable on the bed. “Hey, Diego. I...I love you too.”

There would be no normalcy with Klaus, but that was just fine with Diego.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you! Hope y'all liked it. Comments, kudos are appreciated!!


	6. 19 Days Till Cataclysm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus and Five pay a visit to Diego.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! This chapter is a little short, so sorry in advance. I hope you like it! It gives a little more background into what they're supposed to be stopping, and more Kliego interactions.
> 
> Thank you all SO much for your feedback!! You all have no idea how much it means to me. <3

Diego called in sick to work the next day, so Klaus and Five went to his apartment the next day.

Diego opened the door, saw Klaus and Five and immediately slammed the door in their faces with a panicked look in his eyes.

“Diego—“ Klaus started, heart clenching.

But Five was faster, poofing out of existence for a moment. Klaus could hear a crash from the other side of the door.

_“Holy shit—!”_

The door opened then, Diego staring at the ghost of Five, who had a bright smile on his face. Five smiling was perhaps more frightening than when the boy was angry.

Klaus walked in, trying not to feel too amused at the scene, though it did help the small knot of anxiety in his chest.

“Hey, Diego,” Klaus said gently, as if afraid he’d spook him away.

“Klaus.” Diego said his name tersely, but even that still warmed Klaus’ heart to hear his name spoken again by Diego.

“Listen,” Klaus started, grateful Five was giving him some time. “I’m sure we gave you—quite the spook last night what with the whole, time travel and ghosts being real and you having superpowers—but...we could really use your help with this whole...saving the world thing.”

Diego looked like he was ready to kick them both out, but looked between Five (who was still doing his best impression of a smiling serial killer stuck in the body of a thirteen year old) and Klaus who felt like he’d prefer getting screamed at by an army of ghosts in a mausoleum.

He sighed. “You got five minutes.”

Klaus clapped his hands together, mustering as much excitement as he could for how nervous he was. “Excellent!”

Five glanced inside the apartment. “Do I smell coffee?”

\-- -- --

Diego couldn’t help but stare at Five as he drank coffee from the mug. The expression on Diego's face was absolutely endearing, doing nothing to ease Klaus’ nerves bubbling inside him.

“How is he doing that?” Diego asked, fascinated. "Can he taste things?"

Klaus felt a rush of excitement to share more about his power. “Over the years I learned that the more I used my powers, the stronger they—“

“Never mind,” Diego cut Klaus off mid-sentence, holding up his hand. Klaus’ face fell at how hurt that felt. “I don’t want to know.”

Diego turned to Five, pointedly ignoring Klaus, causing Klaus to feel a wave of guilt and shame. “Tell me more about this apocalypse the Sparrow Academy causes.”

“Cataclysm,” Five corrected, glancing at Klaus. “An Apocalypse is the total destruction of the world, physically. Ending all life, destroying the structures. A Cataclysmic event is the—ending of the world as we know it. Things like an alien invasion, a world war, or another major event that changes the trajectory of the whole world. At least, according to the Commission.”

“The what?”

“The Commission.” Five said, simply. “They oversee and manage the space-time continuum. As a time traveler, I worked for them—“

“Stop.” Diego put his hand up. “Let me just—focus on one thing at a time. Okay. So the Sparrow Academy causes a Cataclysm and changes the world. How?”

“I don’t know the specifics,” Five said, looking a little irritated at being interrupted. “I saw the aftereffects. They considered themselves as gods. People were given a choice of either worshipping them and being enslaved or dying a horrible death along with their families.”

“So why not go to the police?” Diego asked, looking back at Five. “Tell them in advance, see if they can prevent it from happening.”

“And say what, that in three weeks their beloved childhood superheroes are going to suddenly turn on the world and slaughter millions with no proof?” Five snorted. “You tried that once, in the sixties, to stop the assassination of JFK. You were thrown in the looney bin.”

A shadow crossed Diego’s face and he shifted in discomfort at the mention.

“Besides,” Five said. “Even if they did believe us, the police are useless in the best of times. They’d just go shooting blindly. And against a group of super humans, that’s not a very wise course of action.”

“That’s where we come in,” Klaus said with a nod, having rehearsed this with Five this morning. He saw Diego begin to turn toward him, but looked away. Klaus tried not to take it personally, despite his heart already doing so. “We have powers that it seems dear Five has seen in action in a fight. We go up against the Sparrow Academy and we have a fighting chance.”

Diego’s eyes rested on the pale blue light emanating from Klaus’ knuckles that was keeping Five corporeal.

“There’s no guarantee we’ll survive,” Five said. He said it so casually that Klaus cringed. “In fact, without all seven of us, we more than likely won’t survive. But understand that—“

“I’ll do it.”

Five stopped mid-sentence, a genuine uptick of lips forming into a smile. “Good.”

Klaus let out a small breath. This was good, right? Diego and Klaus, back again. Except Diego still wasn’t looking at him.

“So what’s the next steps? How many of us did you find?”

“Just us three right now,” Five said. “You were the first we found. The other four, I’m still trying to track. But it takes time. But you can help us by scouring the web to find the children born on the same day and same year as us. Medical records, photos.”

Diego stopped, giving Five a meaningful look. “Same year? You're a kid.”

“I’m a time traveler,” Five said simply.

“Right,” Diego said.

Klaus was vaguely amused at the way Diego was having a hard time digesting all this information. So he decided to be helpful.

“Yeah,” Klaus said. “Five’s actually fifty-eight.”

It didn’t help Diego from the way he squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. But it certainly helped Klaus feel a little better.

“Klaus and I have different birthdays,” Diego said, as if trying to hold onto whatever shred of sanity he had left.

“Apparently my birth parents never gave me a birth certificate when they dumped me into the adoption system and so my adopted parents made one up! But turns out, we have the same birthday. And October! I was always drawn to October. Thought it was just, you know, my queerness being drawn to Halloween—“

“ _Stop_ talking.” Diego’s voice was firm, harsh. It seemed to surprise all three of them.

Klaus felt a wave of guilt and shame wash over him again and he closed his mouth. He suddenly couldn’t wait to leave.

Diego turned to Five, taking a shaky breath. “What do you need me to do? Should I--try to develop my--my powers?”

Five tilted his head thoughtfully, eyes flickering to Klaus for a second before turning back to Diego. “Given that you have no useful skills until our battle with the Sparrow Academy..." Five turned to Klaus conversationally. Klaus thought he looked like a cat about to pounce on its prey. “You said Diego was a cook, right?”

“Oh yeah,” Klaus said warmly. “Like...the best.”

“Are you hungry?” Five tilted his head.

“Uh...yeah? Actually. Now that you mention it...” It was weird, Five never actually _cared_ about the well-being of Klaus or any of his siblings in the conventional sense. Not unless something was in it for Five. But hey, Klaus would take it.

“Excellent,” Five said, giving Diego a smile that was all teeth. “Now there’s something useful you can do. At the moment, I’m the only one with the skill set to find our long lost siblings, and I need Klaus in top shape to stay focused enough to let me do that. So Diego. Why don’t you be a dear and make my brother some lunch?”

Diego’s face made a series of expressions, and as he watched his ex turn around to go into the kitchen, Klaus felt a warmth in his chest.

Though something was in for him, Five was defending Klaus.

  
\-- -- --

Klaus was in the living room while Five stared intently at the laptop, exploring the apartment. The decoration was sparse, a couple posters here and there, a photograph of Diego and his family from years ago that Klaus recognized that made him smile.

But what stopped him was a beautiful knife that was hung on the wall in a glass display. It was a small chef's knife, the metal etched in with the phrase 'World's Best' and a heart and an alien. Klaus couldn't see the back of it, but he knew if he turned it over he could see the word 'Love, K' followed by another heart and the date of almost ten years ago.

"Still the best gift anyone's ever gotten me," Diego said, startling Klaus. Diego was holding a plate of what looked like a glazed chicken cut with some rice on the size. "Still don't know how the hell you did that."

"Lotta things you can do with a nine-volt battery and salt water," Klaus said casually. "You kept it all these years."

"Well, I couldn't use it," Diego said with a shrug, not looking at Klaus. "Looked better on the wall anyway."

There was a silence that fell over them, and Diego sighed, placing the plate on the small living room table.

"Klaus--"

"Diego--"

They both started at the same time, their voices falling short. It was awkward between them.

"Diego," Klaus said, struggling with the words. "I'm glad you're working with us. And I'm sure once we find our next long lost sibling things'll pick up and get really crazy. But until then...we don't have to be in the same room. I don't want to do anything that...makes you uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable," Diego said immediately, and at Klaus' look he sighed. "Okay. I am. Look, Klaus. I'm...having a hard time wrapping my head around--all of this. I'm still not even entirely convinced that I didn't just--fall into a coma or something. But I want to help. I need to help. And I'm...sorry for being a jerk tonight. It's just a lot for me."

"Diego--"

"No, listen," Diego said. He took a deep breath. "I've been thinking about saying this since last night. What you--" he took a shaky breath, lips trembling as he spoke. Another wave of guilt wracked Klaus. "Wh-what you did to me. I don't forgive you for. But--now I understand, more than ever. And I'm sorry."

A whole weight was lifted off his chest, and Klaus--he couldn't handle that. He felt tears pricking behind his eyes.

"Don't. I don't deserve an apology from you, Di. What I did to you...it was fucked up. I'm glad you left." Klaus said, despite the heaviness in his chest that he felt from saying that. "I never relapsed again. I never touched anything."

"Good," Diego said, giving him a bittersweet smile. "I imagined this conversation a million different ways. I never in my life would have imagined it would be with your adopted ghost brother from an alternate timeline in my dining room using my laptop to go on the dark web to stop the Apocalypse."

"You wanted aliens," Klaus said with a smile. "You got ghosts and superpowers instead."

Diego sighed. "It's gonna take some time for me to wrap my head around--all of this. It's a lot to drop on me at once. But...I think I owe it to you to learn more about your powers. One of these days."

"You don't owe me anything, Diego. And don't--get involved in all this stuff because of some guilt, either."

"I'm doing it because that scary little glowing kid in there said it's dangerous," Diego said. "And as much as I'm still pissed about what happened, the thought of you going up against a team of superheroes alone pisses me off even more."

Klaus felt the hope blossom even more.

"Don't--" Diego took a deep breath. "Don't get that look, Klaus. I'm doing this because I owe it to you, and because I don't want to see you end up dead in some crazy suicide mission. Once we finish this, that's it. Don't look at me like this is a way for us to get back together."

“Yeah,” Klaus said with a nod, ignoring how he felt his chest crush at that, hope deflated like a popped balloon. He wanted to deny it, but truthfully he knew he couldn't. “Of course, Di.”

"Now go," Diego said, and even though he moved and spoke stiffly, Klaus could see he was trying. "Your food's getting cold."

"Thanks," Klaus said, picking up the plate again. "Never thought I'd have your cooking again."

  
\---

  
Klaus jolted awake from the slap across the face.

"Ow! Ow!! What the _hell_ , man?" Klaus looked at Five in full offense.

"You need to stay awake so I can keep physically interacting with the world," Five growled in frustration.

"You've been physically interacting with the world for _hours_ , bro," Klaus whined, squeezing his eyes shut and blinking awake again. "I'm tired."

"You'll sleep in three weeks," Five promised darkly. "Either when we stop the Cataclysm or when you die at the hands of the Sparrow Academy. One way or another."

“Here.” A mug of coffee was put in front of Klaus’ face, and Klaus looked up to see Diego holding a small box in other hand. “Take it.”

“Thanks.” It still caught Klaus off guard that Diego was here. He took the mug gratefully. “I miss the days of old when I could sleep. God I miss my bed.”

Diego looked like he wanted to ask a question and thought twice about it. Instead he put the box he was holding on top of the coffee table and opened it, revealing Sparrow Academy comics.

“Wow,” Klaus admired them. “I remember those.”

“Used to be a fanboy considering I had the same birthday,” Diego said bitterly. “Always thought it was a cool coincidence.”

“Well now you have cool superpowers,” Klaus said with a shrug. “You can—throw knives.”

“Yeah,” Diego snorted. "Cool power, throwing darts."

"Hey, it's cool," Klaus said. "You were quite the badass in the other timeline. Like...Batman, only cooler. Coolest of all the siblings."

Diego’s face fell . “On second thought, I think I should go to bed.”

“Hey, no, no, no. Diego—“

“Klaus. It’s late and my mind needs time to process— _all_ of this shit you just dumped on me. So I need sleep.” Diego sighed. “The couch is a futon. If you want. Hotel’s a long ways away.”

Klaus gave him a small smile.

“And hey,” Diego nodded over in Five’s direction. “Don’t let that asshole keep you awake. You need sleep too. Let him deal.”

Klaus nodded, feeling guilty as he knew he had chased him out, said the wrong thing. Still, Klaus wouldn’t turn down any kind of offer, and they were renting the hotel per day. He could save the money.

“Thanks, Diego.”

Diego started to turn but then paused. “Klaus...just...give me time. But...it’s really good to see you again.”

It was just a small thing, but it eased some of the weight on his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated!! The next chapters should be a little longer. Love y'all!!


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